


The First of Everything

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Beginnings, Draco Malfoy - character, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Virginity, Pansy Parkinson - Character, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-14
Updated: 2011-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco made a promise to Pansy years ago, and now she's going to collect. She's waited long enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First of Everything

"You promised, Draco." Pansy raised her hands to fluff out her hair. As if without realizing what she was doing, she arched her back with the movement, and the ribbed blue wool of her jumper stretched over her breasts. Draco didn't fail to notice. He hardly could, as it was the third time she'd made the gesture since they'd sat down to dinner. Under normal circumstances, she wasn't this obvious, but these weren't normal circumstances. It certainly wasn't normal for him to receive a proposition over the cheese course. In his experience, women usually waited until after dessert. Draco watched as Pansy toyed with the sapphire pendant that dangled against her deep cleavage. She was making a great deal of effort to draw his attention to her breasts. He supposed he should remind her at some point that he was really an arse man, but he was curious to see how far she'd go.

"I made that promise ten years ago, Parks." Draco leaned back in his chair and dragged one finger around the rim of his wineglass. "We were fourteen. We were _foxed_ after the Yule Ball. It was a silly little promise made by a couple of drunk and horny teenagers. Wouldn't have had to make that promise in the first place if your mum hadn't caught us the summer before." Mrs. Parkinson had been very firm on the value of her daughter's purity, and discovering a Malfoy-induced love bite on said daughter's throat after a picnic had sent Mama Parkinson into a frenzy. Draco hadn't even known that a witch could cast those sorts of charms. Every time he touched Pansy after that, he pissed pink for a week. He was still a little disturbed it took him so long to figure out the correlation between pastel urine and his efforts to get under Pansy's robes. "You were just frustrated and annoyed at your mum, so we made a stupid pact. I'll confess now that I was only doing it to shut you up so I could hit the loo."

"Why do you think I was dragging it out?" She smirked at him. "You were hilarious trying not to squirm around. You never could hold your Firewhiskey."

Draco rolled his eyes as Pansy moved her chair closer to him. "It was still a silly promise. I never expected to keep it." He took a sip of wine and chuckled under his breath. "You can't hold up your end, anyway. Astoria took care of that several years ago."

"She told me. Told _everyone_ , actually. She seemed to be quite proud of being the first woman to sheath your wand." Pansy leaned closer to him, her breath stirring the hair over his ear. She laid one hand on his shoulder, her index finger stretched to brush the side of his neck. Draco stifled a shiver as she managed to find one of the most sensitive areas on his throat. She always had been good at making him tremble. "Draco," she said, purring softly. "Draco, you promised. Besides, you can't say you're not interested. You were my first kiss, my first dance, my first boyfriend, my first break-up. Don't you want to have a few more firsts? Doesn't it intrigue you to think that for the rest of my life, I'll compare every man to you? That I'll always think of _you_ whenever I do ... anyone. "

Draco had to force himself not to shift in his seat as Pansy's whispered temptations made his cock stir. "Clever, Parks," he murmured. She knew him well enough to know just what would catch his interest. He did love being first. He thought about it for a minute more, just long enough for her to slip her hand down his chest and wriggle her fingers into his robes. When she rubbed his chest through his shirt, he knew he'd end up agreeing.

When she dragged one nail across his shirt and flicked his nipple, he had to fight back a groan. She'd won. "All right," he said, turning his head to kiss her cheek. "Friday night. Eight. My flat."

* * *

Despite his agreement and his loose-limbed strut as he'd left the restaurant, Draco wasn't entirely certain this was a good idea. He'd let Pansy think he was only interested in the offer she'd made, in the prospect of being the first man to have her, but there was more to it than that. The idea intrigued him, without a doubt, and he wasn't surprised that she'd known him well enough to use that as a lure for him, but that wasn't it, wasn't all of it.

Pansy had been _his_ first kiss, _his_ first girlfriend, and when he sat down and allowed himself to admit it, his first love. He'd cared about her for years, even when he'd pushed her away during the war. He'd pushed her away _because_ he cared about her. The memory of that first blush of love, the memory of how he'd felt about her, was motivating him as he cleaned his flat and changed the linens on his bed. He cared about her, and he didn't want her to go through this experience with someone who didn't. He didn't want her to go through this, to feel this, for the first time under some sweating, grunting moron plucked from a pub at last call.

Draco straightened his collar and examined his reflection. He'd changed three times, going through casual to formal and back to casual before deciding that Pansy would probably tease him for fancying up over her no matter what he wore. He finally settled on dark slacks and a simple white Oxford, then checked over his flat.

He rolled his eyes at himself, after checking the bedroom for the fifth time, and sprawled into a chair in the main room. He was more nervous about this than he suspected she'd be, and she was the virgin. It wasn't as though this was even the first time he'd done this, though he'd had to admit he'd never actually planned for it. He'd known going in a couple of times, but he'd never made _arrangements_.

When she knocked on his door, he jumped, kicking the leg of the coffee table. The pitcher of juice tipped and he scrambled to catch it, managed to save all but a splash from spilling onto the carpet. He rubbed his forehead and sighed, hoping that wasn't a sign of how the rest of the evening would go. She'd be nervous enough.

Draco went to the door as Pansy knocked again. He opened it and staggered back as he suddenly had an armful of Slytherin. She locked her hands around his neck, tugged his head down, and kissed him, so hard and so fast their teeth collided. She pushed him back, shoved him into the door, and kissed him deep. It was several seconds before she released him, and Draco knew he was a touch wild-eyed when he lifted his head. "So, er. So you're _not_ nervous, I reckon."

Pansy laughed and pushed his disarrayed fringe out of his eyes, but her laugh had a brittle edge to it. Draco's brows furrowed and he looked at her eyes. They were too wide, the lashes quivering, and he cupped her chin, brushed his thumb across her lips. Pansy had always been better at hiding her feelings than he had, but she could never keep the truth out of her eyes. If one knew where to look, and what to look for, she was wide open. "You are," he murmured. "Parks. It's all right."

She looked away from him, but only that. She didn't move, didn't speak, hardly breathed. Draco waited, his eyes never leaving her face until she licked her bottom lip and nodded once. "A little," she admitted. Draco stayed silent and after a moment, Pansy sighed. She pulled away from him and stepped into the main room of the flat, her hands twisting together. "Damn you, Malfoy. Fine. A lot nervous. _Very_ nervous. Can we just get this over with?"

"If you just wanted it over with, you wouldn't have asked me to do it." Draco closed the door before his incurably curious neighbor could poke her nose out of her flat and into his affairs. "Pansy. Pansy, look at me."

She dropped her coat and bag on the sofa, then turned to face him. Draco noted the quiver in her lip, in her hands, noted the way her fingers twitched and tensed around each other. He crossed the room to her, caught her cheeks in his palms. "Pansy, don't worry. I promise I will take very good care of you." He drew her into his arms and cradled her to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart. Draco bowed his head and spoke into her hair. "Pansy, I promise you. I will take good care of you. That's why you asked me to do this. Not because I was your first kiss or your first boyfriend, not because of some silly little promise made a decade ago. Because you know I will take care of you. Because you know how I feel about you."

"I know," she said quietly. She drew her nail over his chest, tracing out their initials and surrounding them with a heart. "That's ... that's why, yes. I didn't want someone else to--" She ducked her head. Draco held her as she trembled. "I wanted you all along," she whispered.

Draco stroked her hair and settled his hand across the back of her neck. "You have me now."

She nodded without speaking and slipped her arm around his waist. Draco stood still, letting her hold onto him, letting her take her time and make her final decision. She had to trust him, or he'd be no better than any other bloke she could have picked up in some club. He waited until Pansy raised her head and nodded again. Draco smiled and lifted her chin on his curled fingers. "Did you take a potion?" he asked. He had a spare contraceptive potion waiting in the loo, just in case, but Pansy rolled her eyes and thumped him in the chest as if he were a fool for asking.

Draco smiled, pleased she'd taken her own initiative. It boded well for a good night if she'd been preparing as much as he had. He kissed her, far more slowly than when she'd burst into his flat. He kissed her gently, chastely, his lips together, until he felt hers part. Draco kissed her with delicacy, his attention on every second of it. He dragged the point of his tongue across her lip, touched it to the tip of hers when she opened for him.

She hummed and slid her arms around his neck, leaned into him as he kissed her. When he drew back, he scraped his teeth across her bottom lip, just barely, just a touch, then pressed his lips to the outer corners of her eyes with a smile. Pansy made a quiet sound and toyed with the hair at his nape. "If you do the rest of this as well as you kiss, Malfoy, I think I'm going to be in very good hands." She caught his fingers and drew his hand to her mouth, kissing his palm. "Very strong hands. That much I remember."

She smiled up at him. "I'm ready, Draco."

* * *

She asked him to wait in the main room while she changed, and Draco paced outside the door in silent obedience. Everything about this had to be her decision, her choice. If he felt for a second as though he'd pressured her, he would consider himself no better than any other slobbering hooligan, pub-drunk and bleary-eyed, itching for the chance to slip their fingers into her knickers in the search for another bloody hymen to pin to-- "What the hell is the _matter_ with you, Malfoy?" he muttered, thumping his forehead with the heel of his hand. Letting his imagination run away with him wasn't the way to make certain he did this right. Pansy had asked him for this because he'd be careful, he'd be caring, and getting lost in some bizarre daydream wouldn't accomplish that.

Draco pushed his hair out of his eyes and knocked on the door with one knuckle. "Pansy, I know this was your idea and everything, but, er. But I'm getting a little anxious out here, so if you could do _me_ a favor and let me know that you're sure, I'd appre--"

The door opened. Pansy stood just beyond it, wearing a thin lace gown and robe. It flowed with every movement, even just the action of her chest as she breathed. She'd taken her hair down to let it stream over her shoulders. She extended her hands and turned in a circle. When she faced him again, she smiled.

Draco stared for several seconds. Gaped, he had to admit to himself. Pansy's nipples poked through the bodice of her gown, and he could see a triangular patch of hair at the apex of her thighs. He noticed, but that wasn't his focus. He looked, as he was certain she expected him to do, but then he looked up, looked at her eyes. He smiled. "Stunning, Miss Parkinson."

He took her hand and turned her around, walked her to the bed. She glanced at the floor as he sat and drew her in to stand between his knees. "You don't want me to lie down?" she asked, and caught her bottom lip in her teeth.

"Not yet." Draco reached up and pushed her robe from her shoulders. His fingers followed it down her arms, trailing over her biceps and the hollow of her elbows, down her forearms and across the thin skin of her wrists. As the robe fell to the carpet, he caught one of her hands and drew it to his mouth. He kissed the tip of each finger, her palm, the heel of her hand, her wrist. Without prompting, she held her other hand out to him, and he repeated the process.

Pansy settled her hands on his shoulders and Draco leaned forward to kiss her stomach. The lace abraded his lips, but he ignored that as he laid a trail of kisses across her abdomen. She giggled when he brushed over a spot near her hip, and he grinned, remembering that she'd always been ticklish there.

"Is making me laugh part of the bargain?" she asked. She tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear and he tipped his head into her touch.

"It can be." Draco edged her back and stood. Her hands went to his shirt and started on the buttons. Draco stayed still. He'd planned to leave the disrobing a while longer, but he wasn't going to stop her when she made a decision tonight. He'd leave the choices she made as hers, let her feel as much in control as she needed. "Making you laugh is a fairly decent thing, don't you think? As long as you're not laughing _at_ me, I mean. Far rather have you laughing than crying."

"You've made me cry before," she said in a soft voice. Pansy pushed his shirt off and trailed her fingers across his chest, tracing the pale scar that had never fully faded. "This. When Potter did this to you. You wouldn't let me stay in the hospital wing with you. I cried for days. And this?"

She caught his left arm, turned it palm up, exposed his forearm. She ran her fingers over the skull and snake, around the pale remnants of his mark of servitude. "When I finally figured it out, what you'd done. What you'd _really_ done. I cried for you. I was so proud of you at first, for stepping up, for taking a stand, but then I saw what it was doing to you. All the weight you lost, the classes you failed. I didn't know the pressures you were under. Didn't know he'd threatened your parents. Threatened you. But I knew you were scared." She went up on her toes to kiss his jaw. "And I was so scared for you. I spent so many nights crying for you, Draco, even after you shoved me away. It took me too long to realize why you'd done it, all of it. You've always _cared_. You just hid it."

Draco tried a quiet laugh, but cut it off when Pansy's fingers danced down his chest to unbuckle his belt. "Only cared about the important people."

"Just as long as I'm always on that list," she said. She gave a tug and his belt hit the floor.

* * *

He stretched out on the bed beside her, both of them fully naked. He'd allowed her to strip him, allowed her to move at her own pace. While she'd been bold about undressing and impatient to be in the bed, she'd avoided looking down, avoided letting her hands drift below his waist.

Draco stroked her arm, patting her gently, as though she were a fretful kitten. "So now we have a couple of options," he said, watching her profile. "I can touch you, or you can touch me." Her eyes closed and his hand stilled on her arm. "It's up to you, Pansy."

She held still, but after a few heartbeats, her hand slid across the bed to rest against his hip. "Touch me."

She'd made a decision and Draco took the opening she gave him. He rolled up onto his side and propped his head on his hand. The other draped over her waist, thumb moving in a small circle on her skin. Draco looked her over, from stiffened nipples to rounded thighs, then touched her. He stroked her skin, petted her, rubbed her, _touched_ her until she was breathing hard and her breasts were swaying gently. He'd stopped himself from touching them except on the outermost curves, waiting until he heard that little hitch in her breathing that said she was ready for more.

Slowly, he dragged the tips over his fingers over the tops of her breasts, avoiding her nipples with deliberation. He traced the aureoles, admiring the contrast of their dusty rose color against the snowdrop white of her skin. It was agonizing, how gradual he advanced, how slow he tightened the circles his fingers made. When he brushed one nipple, Pansy gasped. She arched up into his touch, and her tongue flicked over her bottom lip. "All right?" Draco asked, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth.

She nodded and turned her head to kiss him properly. "More, please. Touch me." She took his hand and pressed his fingers to the point of her nipple. Draco smiled into their kiss, appreciating the small gesture that let him know she was ready for the next step. More than ready. _Wanting_ it.

He stroked his thumb across the stiff peak. Pansy shifted, twisting her head away from his. Draco stilled his thumb and examined her face. She had her eyes closed, but there was no tension in the muscles around them, no pressure in her lips. Her face was calm, her lips parted just slightly. Draco stroked again and Pansy quivered. He'd touched her like this before, years before, but only over layers of robes. The barrier of thick wool and cotton had muted the feel of his hands on her body, and now that they were skin to skin, it was like touching her for the first time. He dipped his head and kissed her throat, thumb moving once more.

Pansy murmured and arched her back. Draco responded, spreading his hand over her breast. He cupped her entirely in his palm, fingers against her sternum, thumb stretching to her ribs. "Like that?" he asked softly. He kissed the underside of her jaw, lips moving against her skin as he spoke. "Do you like that, Parks?"

"I ... I don't know." She laid her hand atop his over her breast.

Draco lifted up to look at her, watching her face for any changes in her expression. "You don't know?"

Pansy opened her eyes. They were dark, dilated with the beginnings of arousal, but they held a glimmer of confusion. Draco waited until she swallowed and licked her lips to speak. "I don't know. It's different, with you. With you touching. I know how it feels when I'm doing it, but you...." She shook her head on the pillow and wrapped her fingers around his, pulling his hand from her breast to rest on her stomach. "It feels nice."

Draco chuckled under his breath. "Nice is a start. Rather hoped you'd be feeling a bit more than that, though." He tugged his hand from under hers and laid it along his side, keeping back from her body by a few inches. "Show me. Show me what you like. How you do it when you're touching yourself."

Pansy chewed on her lip, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back. She exhaled slowly. Draco watched as she drew both hands up her stomach and ribs to cup her breasts. She rubbed her thumbs over her nipples, much firmer than he would have, and he tucked that away into his mind.

Draco watched in silence as Pansy ran her hands over her body, drifting down to caress her stomach and hips. She drew a circle around her navel with the tip of one finger, a small smile curling her lips as her muscles contracted under the touch. Her hands slid lower in small increments, edged closer to the dark curls between her thighs. She laid one hand over the neatly trimmed triangle and her middle finger stretched out. She pressed it down, slid the tip between her labia, and bit her lip.

Her head tilted to the side, facing him, and her quick breaths bounced off Draco's mouth. He held still, only his cock twitching, as her finger moved and her eyelids fluttered. "Touch me," she whispered, her free hand clutched in the sheet. "Draco, touch.... Touch?"

He smoothed his hand over her chest, stroking two fingers down her sternum to draw circles around her breasts. Pansy gasped and arched her back. She pressed into his hand and she spread her legs. Draco draped his leg over hers as it brushed him, and he pulled it closer. Gently, slowly, he encouraged her to widen even more for him. Pansy's fingers jerked against her mound, and she slipped a second into her folds.

She wriggled against the pillows, her head tipping closer to him, and Draco bent to kiss her as they both caressed her body. When she pulled away, breathing rough and uneven, she grabbed his hand and pushed it down to rest on her thigh. "Draco," she muttered, bending the knee not trapped under his leg. She opened wide for him and lifted her hips in invitation. "Ready. I'm ready."

* * *

Draco lay atop Pansy, his weight on one forearm and his lower thighs to keep from crushing her. To keep the solid length of his cock from pressing too insistently against her. He watched Pansy's eyes as he stroked gently along and into her folds. She was wet, almost dripping, and he knew from a delicate exploration that he wouldn't have to worry about a hymen to break, but he held back. He touched her, getting her accustomed to someone else's touch, someone else's being _there_.

He watched her face for the little shifts and adjustments he knew would come. The twitch of an eyelid or the flare of a nostril, an arch in her eyebrow or a curve of her mouth were all signals to him. His hand slid down the narrow space between them and he grasped his cock, stroking it briefly before rubbing the tip against her. She sucked in a breath when he pressed the head to her clit, warmth to warmth and flesh to flesh. Draco moved slow, moving his cock up and down through the slickness of her folds until Pansy made a quiet sound and lifted her hips.

The move changed their alignment, altered Draco's rhythm, and they both held their breath when he slipped into her. Barely, just barely, not even as far as the heavy ridge, but he was in her. Pansy swallowed hard, her hands locking on his back, and she looked up at him. "Yes," she said.

Draco dipped his head to kiss her again, and as his tongue slid across hers, he pushed forward. She hissed and tensed her fingers before he was halfway in, and Draco stilled. "Deep breath," he told her, nudging her head aside to kiss her throat. "Deep breath, Parks. Relax. You're doing great." He continued talking to her in a low, soft voice, feeling her body ease around and under him.

When she did relax, Draco resumed moving, pushing into her until his hips were flush to hers. She dug furrows into his shoulders when he sank fully into her, but she kissed him deep and hummed. "Good," she said. "I'm good. This is ... this. Good."

Draco shifted his weight to both forearms and looked down at her. "You're beautiful," he whispered. Pansy's startled, brilliant smile made his skin prickle with heat, even more than the tight, wet feel of her cunt had. He repeated it, just to see the sparkle in her eyes, then moved. He pulled out of her, so, _so_ slow, and slid back in. Pansy bit her lip, brow furrowing for just a moment, then Draco felt her move under him.

The angle of her hips changed, and when he slid into her on the next stroke, Pansy gasped. She stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth open. "Oh, fuck. What did you just do?"

Draco chuckled. Withdrew. Returned. This time he felt the ridge of his cock rub against a soft, spongy area inside her, and Pansy gasped again. Draco thrust again, a little harder, a little faster, and Pansy's eyelids fluttered. She closed them tight and swallowed audibly, her hands clenching on his back. " _Fuck_ ," she muttered.

It sounded like a command. Draco obeyed.

* * *

By the time he had pushed up onto his hands and drove into her at full speed, Pansy had one hand dug into his arse and one wrapped around a bar of the headboard. Sweat covered her forehead and the bridge of her nose, and she'd been swearing for several minutes straight. In the various yelps and shouts she'd made, he thought she might have come, but he wasn't sure.

He couldn't take the time to make sure. His body was screaming at him, his pulse drumming against his skull so hard that he thought it would burst. He thought _he_ might burst. "Pansy," he mumbled. "Pansy, I can't--"

She grabbed his head and hauled him down for a deep and sloppy kiss. Draco bucked against her, his steady rhythm broken into erratic pumping. He buried his face against her neck, groaning with each quick spasm as he came hard.

He collapsed on her, his arms trembling, the stressed muscles twitching at random. Pansy wrapped her arms around him. She stroked his back and kissed his ear. She spoke, but Draco didn't understand, lost in aftershocks. It took him a minute to move, and his voice sounded jagged. "Wh-what?"

"You're heavy," Pansy said with a soft laugh. She kissed him again and tried to wriggle under him, but his weight had her pinned in place. "And there's something ... oozing."

"Ah." Draco blinked several times, forcing blood back to his brain. "Yeah, that. That, er. That happens. Don't move." He pushed off and away from her with a heavy grunt. Rolling to the edge of the bed, he groped for his wand. A few flicks, twists, and taps had clean-up done quickly. The use of magic so soon after orgasm had him drained, and Draco fell into the bed beside Pansy, his arm over her waist.

Pansy turned to nestle in against his chest, grumbling slightly when newly stretched and used muscles made their complaints. She tucked her head under his chin and rested her hand on his heart. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I'm not sure I'm taking it all in just yet, but that was ... that was unique. So different."

"Faint praise," Draco muttered. He grinned when she thumped him. "As long as you're not saying 'that was pathetic', I'll take it."

"I wouldn't have asked you if I thought you'd be bad at it, you idiot," she said affectionately. She exhaled and yawned. "We'll have to try this again, though. Now that I'm a woman of experience."

He snorted with a repressed laugh and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. "See how you're feeling in a few hours once your body realizes what happened, and then we'll talk." He stroked her hair as she laid her head on his chest. He felt sweaty and sticky and he was fairly certain that she'd raked her nails down his back so hard that he'd bled, but the thought of any movement was too much. He closed his eyes instead, gently running his fingers through her hair.

"Draco?"

Pansy tipped her head and he met her eyes. "Yeah?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as drowsy as he felt.

"You know there's another reason I wanted you to be my first, right?"

He kissed her delicately and rested his forehead against hers. "I know, Pansy. I love you too. Always have. That's the reason I said yes. Not a decade old promise. You and I, we...." He sighed and wrapped her up in his arms. "We need to talk. In the morning. This isn't the end of this, Pansy."

She purred and nestled in against him. "Good. That's what I hoped for. Morning, then."


End file.
